Lacuna
by Fwirl
Summary: All Owlpaw wanted was to be a valuable warrior to WindClan; but that all changes when he discovers that his mother is a RiverClan warrior. Determined to meet and join his unknown family, he'll discover there's more to RiverClan than meets the eye.
1. Chapter 1

**Oh hiiii. You may be wondering what I'm doing here after having spent so long in inactivity. Or not, if you've never read something of mine before. The short answer is that Shadow told me to write a Warriors fic (Which we are now doing together! You should go read her new fic, The Valiant. It's amazing. There will be soooo much angst~). The slightly-longer-but-not-by-much answer is that I missed getting critique and I wanted to test out some characters in a project which isn't so serious. And I just got lonely. Sooooo lonely. You know how that is. Right?**

**Right! So. The last Warriors book I read was The Fourth Apprentice, so about three years ago? I also haven't read Crookedstar's Promise, so I'm not basing a great majority of personalities or characters off of it or any other Warriors book. It's all made up. Hope that's fine by y'all. Oh, yes, and this is in the old forest, back when Tallstar was being all leaderly and whatnot.**

**Okay. So. Story time! :D**

* * *

The wind traces its way through my fur, waking me slowly. If not for Mudpaw shifting in his sleep, rubbing his pelt against mine as his hind leg scrapes against my side, I might've just dozed back off. Now that I've a dim flickering of consciousness, there's no chance. My jaw practically unhinges with the force of the yawn that escapes me, but even through my bleary mind, I'm already searching for Redclaw.

The dark ginger tom is sitting in front of the gorse wall that encircles the camp, and it takes a moment for me to see past him to the elder he's talking to. I stand and stretch, arcing my back as my tail curls overhead, before padding over to the two. "Good morning, Redclaw, Whiteberry," I say, nodding my head respectfully to my mentor and elder.

"Hello, Owlpaw," Redclaw replies, flicking his tail in recognition. "You slept well, I take it?"

"Very," I answer, unable to prevent a second yawn.

"So I see," Redclaw says, amusement glinting in his amber eyes. He stands, flicking one of his paws as though it's wet. "I was just about to come and wake you anyways. Rockfur, Shrewstep, and the two of us are going on patrol. A fox's scent has been hanging around ShadowClan's border. It's stale enough, but we need to make sure.

"Of course," I say, feeling my paws lighten already. It'll be good to be out running: the sun beating down on my dark tabby fur, the coarse grass crumpling underpaw, wind sailing through my fur and my ears. The smell of fresh rain on packed dirt is already in my mouth, and it takes a conscious effort to keep from barreling out of camp this very moment.

I look around camp to try and locate the two other members of our patrol. Tallstar and Hawkheart are over by Tallrock, their heads bent close like they're discussing something serious and secret. Across the clearing, a few apprentices are still sleeping, their chests rising and falling with the melancholy pace of deep rest. The yellow-flowered gorse wall shudders and sways with the wind, leaves filling the camp with their soft murmurs and promises of newleaf. A sky as blue as water stretches overhead.

"Oh, calm down," Whiteberry says, flicking my ears with the tip of his tail. "I'm getting anxious just watching you. They'll get here when they get here."

"Sorry," I say, ducking my head. From the corner of my eye, I see Mudpaw waking up, shaking his fur out to displace the fallen leaves and scraps of grass. "Um, I'll be right back."

"Don't be late," Redclaw calls after me, but the ways he says it is almost like an afterthought, and I'm not very worried.

"Morning, sleepypaws," I say as I come up on Mudpaw. The mottled dark tom brightens with an inner energy as he sets eyes on me, his ears swiveling forward to point towards me. "Glad to see you've finally deigned to join us waking souls."

"Well, you know how it is," Mudpaw says, playing along. "Things to do, dreams to have. Cats to not see."

"I think I've just been insulted," I say, feigning offense as I pull back slightly. "I don't know how our friendship can ever continue on after a blow like that."

"Oh please," Mudpaw says, his mouth quirking at the side. "You're so overdramatic."

"And you're not?" I tease. A flash of dark gray fur catches my attention and I turn to see Rockfur padding alongside Shrewstep as they head over to join Redclaw. "I'm going on patrol," I say, turning again to Mudpaw. "I'll be back later, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mudpaw says with a bored inflection, even though his tail is still slowly swaying in silent laughter. "Just get going. I'm not going to let you blame _me _if you're late."

"Like that would happen," I say, rolling my eyes.

I rejoin Redclaw, and am, somewhat ashamedly, happy to see that Whiteberry has gone. That fussy old cat can be so annoying. "Are we ready?" Redclaw asks, directing his question to me.

"Yes," I answer, slipping into a more solemn expression. Mudpaw and my father, Rockfur, are the only cats I let see me with my guard even partially down. If I didn't have this respectful and sincere façade all the time, who would care about me then? I see the way some of them glance at me when they think I'm not looking. I'm not sure what it is I did, but I will do anything—_be _anything—to earn their full trust. I want to be a warrior my Clanmates can be proud of.

I fall in step beside Rockfur after we duck through the gorse tunnel, waiting until Redclaw's and Shrewstep's idle chatter is so far ahead that they won't hear us before I speak. Rockfur knows my habits, and so doesn't press me to talk before I'm ready. "How are you?" I ask.

"Same as always," Rockfur answers, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. "I don't know why that's always the first thing you ask me."

"It seems the best way to start any conversation," I say mildly. "Or do you have a better way?"

"I do, in fact," Rockfur says, his chest swelling. "Would you like to hear it?"

I pretend to consider his offer. "No. I think I'm rather well off without."

"Kits," Rockfur snorts. He shakes his head sadly as we continue after the others. "They were never so ill-mannered in my day. In fact, I think your mother would be rather sad to see how you've turned out."

"Now you're just starting to sound like Whiteberry," I reply, rolling my eyes. His comment about my mother glances off. I never knew her, and she knew me for only a few heartbeats before…whatever happened to her happened. Rockfur would never tell me the details of what fate befell my mother after giving birth to me. When no other cat is around, he'll tell me stories about when they were young and how they fell in love, but he never goes past when they found out she was expecting. He doesn't say anything he doesn't want to, and that's alright, I guess. I only wish I could've known what kind of cat my father—my father, who never looks at even WindClan's most pretty she-cats—fell in with. She really must've been something else.

Rockfur nudges me in the shoulder, his ears pointed forward. "Shall we rejoin the others? We're getting close to the place the fox was scented."

"Uh, yeah," I say, surprised to find that the grass underpaw is much shorter and pricklier than that nearer to camp. I part my jaws, but all I can smell is ShadowClan's sickly pine scent. If there's a fox nearby, I don't scent it.

"How about we race?" Rockfur asks, noticing my surprise and misreading it as something else.

"You're on, old tom," I say, sprinting ahead without hesitation. The ground is like springy moss underneath my weight, and it hardly takes any effort at all to tear ahead through the sparse outcroppings of undergrowth. Blood pounds through my ears as my heart jumps in time with my leaps, flying even further ahead than I am. _Faster, faster, faster _it sings—

An agonizing yowl behind me brings me to skidding to a halt, almost sending me tail over head. I'd been so engrossed in the run that I completely forgot about Rockfur. I spin around to see him spitting at a long red thing with a bushy tail. It looks like a cat, but it's bigger—and then I realize that that's what a fox must look like. A second later, its stench hits me, making me reel with the sharp smell of rotting meat and dead leaves.

A flash of ginger passes me on one side, and then pale gray on the other as Redclaw and Shrewstep pass me, spitting and yowling at the creature. What seems an eternity later, my paws finally rise and take me careening after them. This time, the run is not so enveloping.

Redclaw leaps onto the fox's back, sinking his teeth into its throat as the animal lets out a harsh shriek, backing up as it tries to fling the cat off him. Shrewstep batters it from the side, hissing as he sinks his claws into the thick red fur. He's shaken off in another moment, but he jumps straight back to his former position.

The sight of it freezes my blood. I've never seen something so…so _huge, _or ugly, or rank. What am I supposed to do? I don't know how to fight _that. _Luckily, Redclaw chooses that moment to call through his grip, "Owlpaw, see to Rockfur!"

I nod dumbly without registering what he said until a second later. My mind is sluggish and my paws even more so as I turn to see Rockfur lying on his side in the grass. Panic surges through me the next moment, sending a shock of adrenaline to replace my former lethargy as I see the dark red blood pooling around him.

"Rockfur!" I say, crouching by his side. A deep gash runs from his right shoulder all along his stomach, pouring out blood. Too much blood. Too fast. I fight the urge to throw up whatever I'd eaten last night and try to concentrate on my bleeding father. What kind of herbs would Hawkheart use in this kind of situation?

"Forget it," Rockfur gasps, and it isn't until then that I realized I asked the question aloud. "It won't help me now."

"Don't say that," I whisper. My paws are trembling. It's hard to stay standing. "We'll get Hawkheart. He'll make you better."

"Owlpaw, listen to me," Rockfur says, completely ignoring what I said. His eyes have a sudden sharpness to them, piercing straight through me and silencing whatever words had been hanging on my tongue. "Your mother is alive. She's…in RiverClan. With your sister."

A blank moment of blissful incomprehension. And then I recoil. "I'm…_half-Clan?_ My mother is alive? I have a _sister?_"

"Briarclaw," Rockfur replies, and now his eyes are not so bright. They are dull and regretful and afraid. His side barely moves as he speaks now, and panic increasingly tightens around my heart—for his disappearance, for my newfound family, for the fact that only half of me belongs to WindClan. "Owlpaw, are you listening?"

"I am," I breathe. I pull my face close to his, and only then do I hear Redclaw and Shrewstep behind me. They must have chased the fox away.

"I love you," Rockfur says.

"I love you, too," I whisper, but by then his eyes are already glassy, staring up at the sky with a dazed sort of shock, as if to say _Oh. I'm really dead._

* * *

**Urrrgh, crap. I just wanted to get to the plot, so I'm sorry for rushing the end and trying to establish a close relationship in such a short amount of time. The next one shall be better! **

**Alrighty, so that's it for now. I suppose I shall be seeing you all next Sunday, which is when my updates shall be, for now and ever more until the end. (:**

**Oh, and I forgot to mention this before, but you definitely should not read my other two Warriors stories. They were my first two fics, and were, well, how to saaay…total crap. **

**Thank you for loaning me your eyes! And your attention. I hope I made it slightly worth your while. ^^**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for last week's gimpy chapter; hopefully this one won't be as rushed, either. I just reeeeally wanted to get into the plot last time. ^^'**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

The night shines coldly down. Almost every cat in the Clan has gathered in the center of camp, forming a giant body of multi-colored fur, all darkened in the shadows of the clouds overhead. Yet for all the cats there, not a single body touches one another. They each stand, separate, distinct, and alone, despite being surrounded.

Rockfur's body lies in the middle of camp, the bundle of dark gray fur looking unusually small and defenseless. Tallstar steps forward; his amber eyes are somber and heavy as they fall on Rockfur, and it takes a long time for him to finally speak.

"Rockfur was a brave warrior. He always did what he thought was best for the Clan, and I have always respected him for that. No amount of words can do him justice. He will always be remembered."

With that, he settles on his stomach, paws folded neatly before him, tail wrapped over top of them, and shares tongues with his old friend for one last time. One by one, cats fall in around Rockfur's body. I can't feel them, but I know they're there. Mudpaw's murmurs are soft in my ear as he wishes my father goodbye. His voice keeps fading in and out, soothing one moment, and harsh and grating the next.

I can't think. Anything I might've wanted to say to Rockfur has completely fled my mind. _My mother is alive. _My tongue moves mechanically over his fur, straightening and cleaning it. _I have a sister. _My paws and stomach are beginning to ache. How long have we been here? _They're in RiverClan._

The moon traverses slowly through the sky that night, turning the colors with it. At one point, I think the sky itself is a blinding white, and the stars have become black pinpricks, each one laughing down on our grieving Clan. It only lasts for a moment before I blink and the sky returns to pale shades of pink, orange, cream, and amber. The stars are almost completely gone, and the edge of the sun barely breaks over the horizon.

Mudpaw nudges me and I reluctantly stand, still looking down at Rockfur. Whiteberry and Reedfeather pick him up between the two of them and gently carry him away to the burying place. I watch them go, my heart racing faster with every passing moment as I silently plead for him to return. _Don't go yet. You haven't told me all the stories—I want to hear the old ones, too. Tell me about how you and Briarclaw met. How about when you nearly drowned trying to fish and she had to save you? I love that story. It always makes me laugh. Tell it again, Rockfur._

They disappear under the gorse wall.

For a long moment, I am frozen where I stand. Then I turn with a slowness I'd never have thought possible before now and my eyes light on Tallstar. He is watching me from the shadows of the Tallrock, and I go to him, knowing exactly what it is I need to say. Mudpaw says something behind me, but I don't hear it.

"You knew all along, didn't you?"

Tallstar slowly lifts his head to face me, his long tail lingering somewhat behind him in motion. His black and white fur shines dully in the light of dawn. "Knew what, Owlpaw?"

I'm almost sure he knows perfectly well what I'm asking, but something abut his tone makes me hesitate. His voice hangs heavy in the air, as though he's preparing to answer but trying to warn me away from it. He looks tired—older, somehow—and I'm not sure if it's because of the silent vigil or if he's always looked this way. I'd never noticed before now.

"I'm half-Clan," I say. I try to measure my tone, to make it even and sound like any old casual thing, but my voice cracks on the last word. I pause to make sure it won't happen again, and then I ask, "Has everyone always known but me? Is that why they look at me that way?"

"Owlpaw," Tallstar says gently. He sits down, flicking his tail for me to do the same. I stand. He ignores it.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Rockfur never wanted to worry you," Tallstar says. "That's all."

"That's not all!" I snap. I can feel the fur rising on my back and force it back down. Tallstar gives me an amused look before glancing behind me into the camp. Morningpaw's and Mudpaw's low voices drift in, along with the scent of the hunting patrol coming back, carrying along with them a fresh rabbit. My stomach rumbles at the warm, thick smell, but I keep my gaze on Tallstar. This is something that I have to do. "I want to meet her. My mother." _Briarclaw._

"I'm sure at the next Gathering—"

"No," I interrupt, surprising even myself. "I want to meet her now. I...I want to go to RiverClan."

For a moment, silence stills the space between us. It lasts so long that I think I'll suffocate on it, but then he finally speaks. "Why do you want to go to RiverClan? You have always loved your Clan with undoubted loyalty. If you go now, there is no coming back."

"I know."

"It's too different over there. You can't run through the fields, or sleep in the open, or eat rabbits. They would make you fish and swim and live in their wet camp."

"I know."

He pauses. "You wouldn't be welcomed."

"I am barely welcome here," I say, edging on desperate now. "Every time I talk to anyone but Mudpaw and Redclaw, it feels like they're faking the other end of their conversation. Like they have to force themselves to be in my presence. I want to meet my family. At least _they _would want me." I don't tell him my secret fear that maybe they wouldn't. That maybe they'd think I was a hindrance, a shame to their loyalty. Maybe they'd turn me away when they found out I left my Clan for them. They'd be disappointed in my lack of loyalty. If I left my own Clan that I'd grown up with—hunted for, been taught the ways of, the cats I wanted to fight _with, _not against—what reason would they have to trust me?

The sense of giving everything up is overwhelming. The knowledge that I couldn't live like this ever again presses down on me, crushing my chest. I would miss Mudpaw with a fierce intensity that makes me long for his company already, even though he's only a few tail-lengths away. The coiling of muscles and then release, the wind whipping back my fur, the thrill of the run—that I would miss, too. But more than the things I _would_ miss, I want to know the things I _have _missed. I always wanted to know who my mother was. I had daydreamed about having littermates before, but I never imagined I actually had one. Now, the need to know pushes me forward, not the knowledge of what I'm losing.

There's a long pause before Tallstar finally raises his head and says, "Think on it. Right now, you are filled with grief. Tomorrow might better your perspective."

"And if I still want to go?" I ask, absolutely sure I won't change my mind, and equally sure that Tallstar knows it. "You'll let me?"

"I'll consider it," Tallstar says vaguely.

Irritation sparks in my chest, coursing all the way down to my paws, but before I can voice my protest, he says, "Why don't you get some sleep? Once you wake up, Redclaw and Deadfoot will take you and Mudpaw out for battle training."

He's trying to bribe me, I realize with a start. Battle training is the part of our apprenticeships that Mudpaw and I most look forward to—the part that any apprentice most looks forward to. But why? What's the point in trying to keep a half-Clan like me here, even when I've already expressed disloyalty in wanting to join another Clan?

Tallstar flicks his ears in a clear dismissal, and I leave without another word.

I haven't gone a dozen steps before Mudpaw bounds up to me, his shoulders stiff from the long night of silent vigil, his eyes shining dully from lack of sleep. "What were you talking about with Tallstar?"

For a moment, I debate telling him. Then shame makes me confess, "I want to join RiverClan."

The bleariness leaves Mudpaw's eyes, to be replaced with an acute sharpness. I tell him Rockfur's last words, and my decision to meet my family, ending with, "Do you think I'm wrong?" with maybe a little more challenge than I had intended.

Mudpaw opens his mouth uneasily, then seems to think better of it and snaps his jaws shut. He glances over his shoulder to make sure no one can hear us, but we've already retreated under a section of the gorse wall for privacy. Flowers and grass prickle at my skin and tangle in my fur—I don't know how cats from the other Clans can _sleep _like this, let alone stay in here for ten heartbeats—but for the seclusion it offers, I can bear with it for the moment.

He considers another moment, then looks up and meets my gaze steadily. "I don't want you to leave. It may be selfish of me, but you're my best friend, and I'd rather you stay here with me, in WindClan. Your home."

I don't immediately say no, even though I know that's my answer, because he'll only tell me to think about it, just like Tallstar did. So I think about it. I wouldn't be able to see Mudpaw except on the Gatherings once a moon. If RiverClan and WindClan ever had to fight, I would be hurting my former—current Clanmates. No cat in RiverClan is likely to accept me except for maybe my mother and sister. I couldn't run, or eat what I'm used to, and I'd have to learn an entirely different lifestyle. I'd have to sleep under prickly bushes.

"I want to go," I say. "I want to meet them."

Mudpaw's eyes fall to the ground, and for a moment, I want to take back what I said so he doesn't look so heartbroken. He must think I'm an awful friend, choosing some cats I've never met over him. I brush my tail along his shoulder. "We'll still see each other," I say. "At the Gatherings. And we'll always be best friends, right?"

Mudpaw lifts his head with some effort and attempts to look cheerful, with little success. "Yeah, of course. Always."

"Always," I repeat emphatically, making sure he knows I mean it, before slipping out from under the gorse wall to get some sleep.

The next day, I tell Tallstar that I want to join RiverClan.

* * *

**Okay, so there's a slight change in plans. More was supposed to happen in this chapter, but I was pressed for time (because I'm a lazy slacker bum), and so, to finish on schedule, I will be updating this Thursday with another chapter. So, uh, yay! I guess. :D**

**Don't forget to go and read Shadow-senpai's _The Valiant_! Or any of her stories, really. She's such a fantastic storyteller. –way jealous–**

**Please review! They make me ridiculously happy after having no one but Shadow to talk about stories with for so long. T~T (I still love you, bestie.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**So here we are, once again. Oh, what's this, you say? It's not Sunday? Huh. Funny how that works.**

**Well. Don't let _me_ delay you any further.**

* * *

The RiverClan border reeks of fish and the river and salt. Everything has the appearance of dampness; green leaves glimmer faintly with morning dew, and my paws are soaked by the time Tallstar and I reach the border. We're at WindClan's end of the old wooden bridge, since we can't swim across the river, but any patrol going by will be sure to see us.

Far below, the river churns and hisses at us. The musty scent of long-dead foliage reaches my nose, and I resist the urge to sneeze. This will take a long time getting used to.

Tallstar agreed to take me to the border and wait for a RiverClan patrol to pass. No one else came with us. Tallstar said it was because he didn't allow anyone else—he didn't want RiverClan to think we were some kind of threat—but I know better. The Clan didn't want to wish off someone who was betraying them. Even Redclaw had looked at me with that disappointed pain in his eyes before turning away this morning. He had barely managed to say goodbye and wish me luck, both in my apprenticeship and in meeting my family. I guess it must've been especially hard on him. I was his first apprentice.

Mudpaw walked most of the way with Tallstar and me at first, but then our leader flicked him over the ears with his long tail and fondly told him to go back to camp. My friend muttered something about wanting to check the RiverClan border—just in case—and after a little more prodding, finally left.

"It's still not too late if you want to go back," Tallstar says. "No one will blame you for wanting to meet your mother."

_But they would blame me for wanting to leave the Clan, _I reply silently. _As they should. _Strangely, though, I don't have any desire to go back.

Thankfully, it looks like most of RiverClan's territory is open fields. Maybe I'll get to run after all. I'm not sure how much hunting RiverClan does out in the open—I've always heard that they eat nothing but what they can fish for. I'll just have to hope for the best, I suppose. Maybe they'll be nice enough to let me skip fishing and allow me to chase rabbits for them instead.

Yeah. Right.

"I don't want to go back," I say, replying somewhat belatedly to Tallstar's previous comment. "I already decided that this is what I want to do, so I'll do it."

"What you want to do can change, you know," Tallstar says. "You don't have to bind yourself to past desires and decisions."

I don't answer, but secretly, I know that if I fully devoted myself to something like this, I would never go back on it. What good is a promise if you can't even keep one to yourself?

It isn't much longer before a RiverClan patrol comes. From the smell of it, there are four of them, and a few moments later, they come into view. One is a small gray-and-white tom, obviously an apprentice even from this distance, closely following a large white tom with brown paws. They're followed by a ginger she-cat and preceded by the only one of them I do recognize: Timberfur, RiverClan's brown-furred deputy.

The white tom notices us first and says something to Timberfur before inclining his head in our direction. Timberfur nods without taking his sharp eyes off Tallstar and me, then slowly pads across to his end of the bridge. "Tallstar," he says, nodding respectfully to WindClan's leader. Despite the politeness of his tone, it's easy to hear the silent threat, and yet, also an undeniable curiosity. Timberfur glances at me, then back to Tallstar. "How is the prey running in WindClan these days?"

"Well enough," Tallstar answers, equally as courteous. From just that, it's almost impossible to tell that prey is only just returning after the long leafbare. "And in RiverClan?"

"The same," Timberfur says. Now that the formalities are out of the way, he asks, "What are you doing here, Tallstar? I should hope you don't plan to start a border fight with just yourself and an apprentice."

"No, I'm afraid the thought hadn't crossed my mind," Tallstar says, his mouth quirking up at the corner. "Is Briarclaw here?"

Timberfur's eyes flash and he looks to me again. Obviously he's in the know. Just one more cat that knew when I didn't. "Why did you bring her kit here?"

"I want to join RiverClan," I say before Tallstar can speak for me. If anyone's going to voice my thoughts, it'll be me.

"_You?_" The apprentice demands, shifting my attention to where he and the rest of Timberfur's patrol are hanging back. The white tom says something in his ear and the apprentice looks to him incredulously. "But I bet he can't even swim!"

My ears burn, but not because he's right—every cat in WindClan is taught to swim in the river, just in case. We don't like it, but we can do it. After all, we have to defend our territory from RiverClan; what kind of warriors would we be if we couldn't even hold our own in the enemy's strongest element? _No, not enemy,_ I have to remind myself. _Not anymore._

If I were to say something along those lines right now, it probably wouldn't help my impression on who I hope will be my future Clanmates. Timberfur is still watching me, so I say, "I want to join my mother's Clan. I didn't know who she was until yesterday, or that I even had a sister, and I want to meet them."

"You would abandon your Clan for such selfish reasons?" Timberfur asks. From the spark in his eye, I can tell he's testing me.

"I'm half-Clan," I say, lifting my chin as the despicable word leaves my mouth, challenging anyone to contradict me. They don't. "RiverClan is my Clan as much as WindClan is, and I think I should have the right to choose between them. I didn't know I had a choice until yesterday, and once I found out, I made my decision."

"And if it's just a passing fancy?" Timberfur asks. "What if you decide that you don't like it in RiverClan? Will you return with the excuse that you belong to both equally?"

"Maybe it's a whim," I say. "Maybe it isn't. But I'll never know if I don't try, and I will always wonder. If RiverClan still rejects me after a moon has passed, then you can send me away, but _please_ just give me a chance."

Timberfur stares down at me, his dark brown eyes boring into mine with a force that I'm afraid will drill a hole through my skull. Finally he gives a short, abrupt nod. "I will take you to Crookedstar. He can decide."

I let out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding, relieved and suddenly terrified at the same time. I'm going to RiverClan.

Tallstar dips his head to the deputy, saying, "My thanks, Timberfur."

"I don't know why you're thanking me," Timberfur says gruffly, turning his head. "It will be up to Crookedstar to decide. I'm just taking him there. Besides, I shouldn't think you'd be thanking me for taking away one of your Clanmates. I know how you get attached."

"All the same," Tallstar says, rising to his paws. His long, graceful tail sways from side to side slowly, ponderingly. "Good luck, Owlpaw. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your help," I say, suddenly hesitant. He's going to walk away, and then he won't be my leader anymore. He'll be a cat from another Clan, an enemy and rival. We'll never be able to talk like this, or like how we used to, again. "For everything."

Tallstar nods briefly and turns away, leaving me alone on WindClan's side of the border across the bridge. I let the scent of the Clan I grew up in wash over me one last time—the fresh grass and brambles, the cleansing wind that blows through my fur, rabbits and mice, the lingering traces of my former Clanmates. I pass over the bridge into RiverClan territory.

As soon as I step paw on the other side, I'm surprised to feel that the ground is full of the same springy grass as in WindClan. I guess I had expected cold hard ground, even though all I did was cross the river, but it's almost exactly the same. The air feels damp, but as we make our way at a brisk run through the fields, it fades for the most part.

The patrol hems me in—Timberfur leading, the large white tom behind me, and the apprentice and she-cat on either side. The fur on the back of the former's shoulders are bristling, and when he catches me glancing at him, he snaps, "Don't think you're in just because Timberfur was nice to you. We don't take mangy Clan-deserters."

"Splashpaw," the white tom loping behind me says sharply. I guess he must be Splashpaw's mentor; I can hear his long legs swishing through the grass behind me in long intervals.

"But Whitefang—"

"No excuses, or you'll be cleaning out the elders' den with Nightpaw."

Splashpaw mutters darkly to himself, too low for me to catch it, but apparently Whitefang hears him because he pulls up by Splashpaw's side and bats his ears. The she-cat on my left rolls her eyes with a small shake of her head. "Don't mind them. Owlpaw, was it?"

"Yeah," I answer. "I mean, yes, ma'am."

She lets out a low chuckle. "If you start calling me ma'am you'll make me feel old. I'm Mallowtail."

"Nice to meet you, Mallowtail," I say, carefully enunciating each word politely.

"So you said you didn't know your mother was RiverClan until yesterday, right?" she asks, not unkindly. "What happened for you to find out?"

"Rockfur died," I say quietly. Instantly, Splashpaw stops bickering with Whitefang and looks at me with a curious expression. His mentor falls back into place at the rear of our group while Timberfur gives no indication of having heard.

"I'm really sorry for your loss," Mallowtail says with a flick of one ear. Her blue eyes fill with shadows, as if she had personally known him. Maybe she had. "Briarclaw will take the news hard."

"Does she still love him?" I can't help but asking. "My father, I mean. Rockfur."

"Oh, Owlpaw," Mallowtail sighs. "She never stopped."

"Even once they stopped seeing each other?"

"Let me ask _you _something," Mallowtail says. "Did Rockfur ever stop loving her?"

"No," I say instantly. I think of all the stories he would tell me about her, always omitting the fact that she was in RiverClan, of course, but never losing their admiration and emotion. Time didn't matter, I once thought. It didn't change a cat's feelings for someone, even if it's been moons since they last saw one another. "No."

"Then there's your answer," Mallowtail teases, nudging me in the shoulder with her own. I lower my head so that I don't have to meet her eyes as I realize I might've just made my first friend in RiverClan.

Stubbly trees are dotted across the fields periodically. A pervading sense of wetness fills the air, mingled with the scent of freshly turned dirt and grass that reminds me of WindClan. RiverClan's strong, crisp scent has somewhat faded in my nose, more bearable now that I've been running straight through it for a little while. We stay within sight of the river for the most part, the slow murmuring of the water gently guiding us.

Gradually, the river begins to curve inwards until we reach a small split that runs straight across our path. Reeds surround what looks like an island in the very center of the small stream, blocking most of it from view but not enough to be able to mistake it for anything but RiverClan's camp. That, and the overwhelming scents of a multitude of cats is washing over me.

"Can you swim?" Timberfur asks, barely looking over his shoulder at me.

"Well enough," I answer, nervously eyeing the water we'll have to cross. It doesn't look fast-moving, but you can never tell until you're actually in it. Even without that, I hate the feeling of my fur being soaked and hanging heavily on me until it finally dries.

"Let's hope so," Splashpaw jeers, and before Whitefang can reprimand him, he dives into the water as easily as if he were a WindClan cat running into a breeze.

"I'll swim behind you, just in case you need help," Whitefang offers kindly. I instantly like him. Despite his size and obvious power in the coiling of his muscles easily visible beneath his sleek coat, he moves with a quiet grace and regards me and his Clanmates with a sort of protectiveness.

Timberfur and Mallowtail have already gone ahead as well, so I take a deep breath and plunge myself into the stream to get it over with. At first, panic fills me as the water closes over top of my head and presses down on me. Then my paws hit the riverbed and I propel myself up, breaking through the water and taking in a deep gasping breath before my paws start paddling me clumsily forward.

Splashpaw is watching me from the cover of the reeds, his eyes gleaming with amusement, but he doesn't comment when I finally pull myself onto the shore. The wind bites at my freezing pelt, and it takes all my willpower not to shiver. I don't want to look weak in front of these cats, even if my swimming _is_ appallingly terrible.

"Good try," Mallowtail tells me gently, noticing my and Splashpaw's shared look. "Don't worry. If you stay here, you'll get used to it."

"Yeah," I mumble through chattering teeth. I give myself a good shake to dispel the drops of water clinging to my fur before following the patrol into their camp.

It takes a moment for me to distinguish the different features of the camp. The reeds that surround the camp also make up the various dens; a well-trodden grass path leads from various places, and in one corner sits a small pile of fresh-kill. A large willow stands at the head of the camp, and on the opposite side, a sedge wall.

I barely have time to take any of it in before a swarm of cats tumble out of the dens as word spreads of the patrol's return. Unintelligible chatter fills my ears as the cats press forward. Only the patrol itself keeps them back, though Splashpaw slips off to join a white tortoiseshell apprentice with wide amber eyes.

"Quiet!" a low, commanding voice orders. Immediately, the Clan falls silent, backing away to make a small space as a huge light-colored tabby steps forward. I recognize him instantly as Crookedstar from previous Gatherings, but even without that, the crooked set of his jaw would easily identify him. "Timberfur, what is going on here?"

"Tallstar and Owlpaw were waiting at the border," Timberfur says, glancing back at me. "Apparently this apprentice just discovered who his mother is. He said he wanted to join RiverClan to be with her."

Crookedstar is still staring at me, and I manage to hold his firm gaze for about five seconds before looking down at my paws. My tail sweeps low over the ground behind me, brushing against the soft grass. "Is this true?"

"It is," I answer, looking up again to answer his question. A low murmur spreads through the gathered cats, some angry, some cautious, and a few curious. Either way, it doesn't sound like a welcome.

"And why should we take you in?"

"I'll do my best for the Clan," I say immediately, trying hard to look taller and more impressive than I am. "I'll learn to fish, and swim better—or clean out the elders' den or fix dens. I can do whatever you want me to, as long as you say I can stay."

"Why?" Crookedstar asks. "For your mother? Your sister? You must be loyal to your entire Clan, not just your family. If you don't care about the rest of us, then you have no place here. Go home, Owlpaw."

He turns, and this discussion seems to be done. My teeth grind together. I didn't come all this way just to be turned away at the last moment. I'm so close—just a little more effort. "I'm willing to do anything for RiverClan!" I shout after him, feeling the fur rise along my back defensively. "I will die for it, and for any cat in it. I will protect my Clanmates, and I will defend our territory from any enemy—WindClan or otherwise. I want to make this my home, if you will only let me." Crookedstar stops, so I add, "Just give me one moon here. If you still don't think that I belong, then I'll leave the Clans for good. I won't bother anyone ever again."

"You would leave even WindClan if I turned you away?" Crookedstar asks without turning back.

"I have already left it," I answer. "I can't return there anymore. It is not where my loyalties lie, and they know it as well as I do."

Crookedstar remains silent for so long that I'm afraid he'll just start walking away again and leave it at that. But to my surprise, he says, "One moon, and then we will see. For now, Rainstep will be your mentor. She will show you around RiverClan and assign your responsibilities." He looks into the crowd and locks onto a gray-and-black she-cat watching them with sharp, dark gray eyes. "I hope you have no objections this time?"

It takes a moment to realize that he's talking to the she-cat and not me. The warrior looks at me, tilting her head to the side as she sizes me up. "He looks interesting enough. I suppose if it's only a moon, I can stand him for that long."

_Hopefully it'll be more than a moon, _I think, but I don't say anything out loud. There's something strange with this warrior Rainstep. Something about the look in her eyes that suggests immense intelligence, but at the same time, a sort of air of madness emanates from her. Even the way she walks, when she turns to leave, has a strange kind of lilt to it, lyrical and lithe, but somehow off-balance and disturbing.

"Owlpaw." I turn to see that another patrol has returned after the border patrol that I came with. At the very front, a brown-flecked white she-cat stares at me with incredulity, her jaw slowly working up and down, but no words come out. And then I know.

"Briarclaw."

* * *

**You know, every time I write a chapter, I think to myself: This will be the one. The chapter that is substantially more than 2,000 words. And you know what? It never is. Therefore, I am very elated this time around. ^^**

**Also! Lately, I have been very much into Sherlock Holmes. Have you guys seen BBC's Sherlock? It's amazingly amazing. Amazingly so. I have the complete collection of Sherlock Holmes sitting on my shelf, too, so once 1984 and Wuthering Heights are finished, I shall be reading from it in copious amounts. X3**

**I hope you enjoyed, dear readers! I shall see you on Sunday. :)**

**Oh, right, and please review! …Pwetty pwease?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ooohgoshohgoshohgosh busy weekend. So this chapter is another gimpy/rushed one. Only, I don't really feel so bad since I gave you guys two chapters this week. And that's pretty dang good. **

**So, onto the story!**

* * *

In a way, she's everything I expected. And in a way, she's not. I never tried to picture her—_really _picture her—in my head, but when I imagined seeing her, I guess I expected her to share my dark brown tabby coat, or my yellow eyes. The shape of our faces are similar, and I see now from where I inherited my long legs, but everything else looks so different. Her fur is longer, more sleek from her time spent in and around water, than mine. She lacks the light step of any WindClan cat, but moves with a grace that looks like it belongs underwater rather than on this island.

"Owlpaw," she says, the words finally coming out. She licks her paw as she tries to calm herself, looking anywhere but at me. "What are you doing here? You didn't sneak across the border, did you?"

"No," I answer, also looking away from her. "I've joined RiverClan—for at least a moon, anyways. Hopefully longer."

"But why?" Briarclaw asks. It's clear from the tone of her voice that she knows exactly why, but she probably doesn't know yet about Rockfur's death. She wouldn't have any way to.

"Everyone return to your duties," Crookedstar says loudly to the crowd of cats still gathered around us. "Leave them alone—and if I hear of anyone causing trouble, I will personally find a fitting task for you to do in your apparently overwhelming amount of free time."

RiverClan instantly disperses, heading back to a nap or padding over to the fresh-kill pile in the corner. Crookedstar nods to Briarclaw, who returns the gesture thankfully, before disappearing under the roots of the large willow at the head of the camp. She turns back to me. "Let's find a more...private place."

I nod, but not knowing RiverClan's territory at all, I just follow Briarclaw to the wall of reeds. She stops, struck with a sudden idea, and says, "Wait here," before loping off and disappearing into one of the dens on the other side of the camp. A few moments later, she reappears with a jet black she-cat trailing sleepily after her, her paws fumbling over one another. Her green eyes are luminescent when she looks up.

"Briarclaw, where are we going?" the apprentice asks through a yawn. She freezes, her jaws still open, as she catches sight and scent of me. She must have slept through my entrance. The fur along her back bristles, and Briarclaw traces her tail along the young cat's side reassuringly before leading the way out of camp.

The apprentice doesn't speak, but follows Briarclaw. She eyes me suspiciously as she passes, but offers up nothing in the way of conversation, warning or otherwise.

After a repeat of my poor attempt at swimming and a long walk through the fields, we arrive at a stubbly little patch of trees. Briarclaw slips under their cover and waves her tail for the apprentice and me to join her. By now, I've got a pretty good idea who the apprentice is—and for that reason, I can't look at her directly. I'll steal a few glances at her every now and then, trying to see any similarities, but nothing jumps out. Just looking at us, you'd never know we came from the same litter.

"Nightpaw, this is Owlpaw," Briarclaw says, her words soft like she doesn't want to scare the apprentice off. I wonder if she knows about Rockfur and me; that half of her family is from another Clan. "Owlpaw, this is Nightpaw. You'll be Clanmates from now on."

"He's obviously WindClan," Nightpaw says, her lips jerking into a scowl. "What do you mean he's going to be a _Clanmate_?"

"I joined RiverClan today," I say when Briarclaw doesn't venture forth an answer. I still can't look at Nightpaw, even though I can feel her bright eyes burning into my pelt, so I focus instead on my paws. "If, after a moon, Crookedstar decides I can stay, then I will be a permanent RiverClan cat."

A shiver goes down my spine at the words. It's one thing to think about being in RiverClan, but quite another to say it out loud. It feels as though speaking it somehow solidifies it and makes it real, turning it into a binding promise I'm obligated to uphold. In a way, I am. I have nothing left if RiverClan turns me away.

"Why would you leave your Clan?" Nightpaw asks, and now she's looking between Briarclaw and me, knowing that she's out of the loop in something that we're both well aware of. She just doesn't know who to ask. I look to Briarclaw as well; I'm not about to be the one to say it.

Briarclaw finally sighs when it's apparent I won't answer. "He's your brother, Nightpaw."

"_What?" _Nightpaw demands, jumping to her paws. Her tail lashes behind her, hitting the branches of the low trees and sending down a spiral of leaves that catch and stick in her fur. "What do you mean I have a brother? A brother from _WindClan, _no less! When were you going to tell me? If he hadn't showed up, would you have ever?"

"It didn't seem necessary to trouble the both of you," Briarclaw says, retaining her calm. Her eyes flick to me and narrow. "We both agreed not to tell either of you. What happened to make Rockfur change his mind?"

"He died," I say very quietly. The rustling of the leaves in the late afternoon breeze seems absurdly loud. I would have said even comically so if not for the circumstances. It's just the leaves and the wind and two very large pairs of eyes staring at me.

"Was Rockfur my—our father?" Nightpaw asks. Her tone is a little less harsh and accusing now, replaced instead with curiosity and quiet melancholy. She sits down again.

"Yeah," I say, the image of his blank eyes looking up at the sky mingling with the eyes of Briarclaw staring at me now, filled with shock and belated pain. "Yeah."

Briarclaw stands abruptly, and Nightpaw and I both look up at her. "I'm going back to camp," she says, her voice a little tight. "I'm sorry. We can talk more later."

"Okay," I reply, and watch her run away. I'm almost sure she's not going back to camp. Maybe she'll return to one of her and Rockfur's old haunts, where they would meet in secret and say all the things they had wanted to over the past weeks.

"So…you're in RiverClan now?"

I turn to Nightpaw, who's watching me with more than a little uncertainty. She shifts awkwardly from paw to paw, and I wonder when it was that she stood up.

"Um, yeah."

A brief pause. "Who's your mentor?" Nightpaw asks, looking pleased for having come up with an appropriate topic. Her eyes are bright in the late noon sun, and even though they're a different color than Rockfur's, something about them reminds me of his. A weight presses down on the inside of my chest.

"Rainstep," I answer. She scrunches her nose up, and I ask, partly alarmed, "Why, is something wrong with her?"

"She's just a little…strange," Nightpaw says hesitantly. "She's never accepted an apprentice before now because she said they weren't interesting enough. I don't know what exactly she means by interesting, but…" She shakes her head. "She's sort of eccentric. I don't think there's any harm in that, but, well, just be careful."

"Careful?" I echo.

"Sometimes she goes a little mad," Nightpaw says, twisting the tip of her tail by her head. "If you know what I mean."

"And that's who Crookedstar chose to mentor me?" I ask, feeling my initial enthusiasm at being able to hang on for a moon sinking bit by bit. "He must not like me very much."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Nightpaw says. "Rainstep is a fantastic warrior. One of RiverClan's best. Crookedstar was probably thinking that now was the best chance he'd get to have her take an apprentice, and that you need a good warrior if you want to stay here."

"Do you think so?" I ask, still uncertain.

"Yes," Nightpaw answers solemnly, and then she starts laughing. A moment later, I've joined her.

XXX

"This is the edge of RiverClan's territory," Rainstep says. Her tail flicks back and forth behind her as she stares out across the river towards a large pile of rocks on the other side. "Over there is Sunningrocks. It belongs to us, but is temporarily in ThunderClan's possession."

"Why is that?" I ask carefully. Throughout my tour of RiverClan, I've learned to ask questions with caution, and to think them through before I ask them. This one seems reasonable enough.

"Don't be stupid," Rainstep scoffs. "ThunderClan took it from us. Why else?"

I hold back a sigh deep inside my stomach. It's been like this the entire day, and we still have to circle back around to cover the other half of RiverClan's territory. Rainstep is certainly knowledgeable enough; she's pointed out every kind of landmark that could help me find my way, and even though she complains, she'll answer all my questions. Albeit, sometimes it's with another question.

It's just that she doesn't seem very into it. Whereas Redclaw had been practically tripping over his paws his head was held so high the first time he showed me around WindClan's territory, with Rainstep, it just feels as though I'm annoying her.

We're still watching Sunningrocks when a strange smell washes over me. It takes a moment for me to identify the woodsy scent, and by the time I do, the ThunderClan patrol has already appeared on the opposite bank.

Rainstep stiffens, her eyes narrowing. "Hello over there!" she calls. "Fine day to be hunting, isn't it?"

A blue-gray she-cat steps forward and nods, waving with her tail for her other three Clanmates to stay back. "Greetings, Rainstep."

"Bluefur."

Bluefur's ear flicks toward me, and even though I'm nearly certain she doesn't look at me, I get the feeling that she's focusing on me rather than Rainstep. "The prey is running well, I hope?" Bluefur asks, her tone and expression politely unreadable.

"Swimming well, yes," Rainstep answers. "It would be quite amusing to see a fish running. Then again, it would make them much easier to catch."

"I suppose it would," Bluefur agrees. She gives me a single glance before turning over her shoulder and waving her tail for the other cats to follow. "Farewell, Rainstep. Until the Gathering."

"Until the Gathering," Rainstep murmurs, but it sounds more like a threat than a promise.

When the ThunderClan cats are gone, Rainstep turns and leads me in a different direction than the one we took to get here. "What was that all about?" I ask.

"Be more specific," Rainstep says testily. "What was _what _about?"

"You and Bluefur," I clarify. "It looked like you don't like her very much."

"Nonsense," Rainstep says dismissively. "It is nothing more than the usual Clan rivalry. I would treat every non-RiverClan cat as such."

"Oh," I say. "I see."

"No you don't," Rainstep says. "But that's alright. It doesn't much matter one way or another."

"Maybe I would understand if you actually bothered to explained," I say. I don't even know what we're talking about anymore, but I do know that Rainstep is starting to get on my nerves with her superior attitude. I might just be an apprentice who came from another Clan, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. Nor does she have to treat me as such.

Rainstep looks surprised as she says, "I did explain. Were you not paying attention?"

It occurs to me that Rainstep might act this way with every cat she speaks with. I sigh. This is going to be a long moon.

* * *

**So starting from here, I have four straight weeks of finals. Two this week, one the next, two after that, and then one more. –dies– So, uh, wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.**

**Pleeease please please review! I want to know what I'm doing right or wrong and if you like it. =3**


	5. Chapter 5

**Shadow and I collaborated in part on this one. Our two fics intersect slightly here, so you get to meet her wonderously angsty character Cranepaw! =3**

**On an unrelated note, nasty uncooked pizza is nasty. I tried to pick up my slice at school and it sagged between my fingers, and dough stretched out from it when I took a bite. -shudders- No more ordering pizza at school...or for awhile...**

* * *

"On your paws, Owlpaw!" Rainstep calls. I just have time to slide into the stream to avoid what would have been a jarring blow to the head. Splashpaw shoots past, lands lightly on his paws, and twists back around to face me in one smooth, graceful movement. The cold water soaks through my fur, sending goosebumps over my skin. Even though newleaf has well set in, it's still this cold.

My paws clamber for a pawhold in the loose pebbles as Splashpaw bounds into the river just ahead of me. He moves much more easily in the water than I do, even after a moon spent entirely in the water to become adjusted to it. His rakes his paw down the front of my face, just barely missing as I pull back. I swerve to the side and slash my paw across his side. If we were in a real battle, with unsheathed claws, I like to think I would've given him a shallow injury.

He spins around instantly, knocking into me and sending me half-hurling into the water. In the time it takes me to regain my breath, his paws are on my shoulders, holding me down. He yowls triumphantly, but before he can gain a solid victory, I use the shifting pebbles and slippery flow of water beneath me to slither out of his grasp.

I come up behind him, but before I can try to counterattack, Crookedstar says calmly from his seat on the bank, "That's enough."

Splashpaw and I are both out of breath and panting. This was our fifth bout, and of them, I only won once. I don't know what the outcome of this one would've been since we're both so tired, but Crookedstar must've seen how it would end. My hopes fall in my chest as I look at his unreadable face. He stands and, without another word, pads off back to camp.

"Too bad," Splashpaw sneers, catching whatever expression is on my face. "Looks like you just aren't good enough to be in RiverClan. Not that it was any surprise, of course. No WindClan-raised rat was about to blend in, no matter whose blood you have."

"Splashpaw," Whitefang calls sharply. He and Rainstep are seated side-by-side on the bank, and even though he's standing, Rainstep still has not. She stares stoically ahead of her at something I can't see. Whitefang turns to me apologetically. "You did very well today, Owlpaw. Crookedstar didn't give his answer, so don't take silence as one. He has much to consider."

The white tom nods in farewell before disappearing after Crookedstar. Splashpaw rolls his eyes like his mentor is just prolonging the inevitable disappointment—and maybe he is—before bounding after him.

Today was my assessment. This morning went decently, I thought. I managed to catch a rabbit and fish, which, in my defense, I've only just learned how to do. I'm sure the rabbit didn't please Crookedstar and the others watching; it only proved that I was WindClan through and through. But any prey is food for the Clan, and even they could accept that fact.

Border patrol was after that, where Crookedstar asked me questions about the territory that I was haltingly able to answer. That went better, because the funny way Rainstep explains things sticks in my head. Battle training in water was last, which I just finished with Splashstep. I think the apprentice rather relished the chance to prove that I wasn't RiverClan worthy.

Well, he succeeded.

"Thank you for teaching me for this past moon, Rainstep," I say, only just remembering to walk out of the stream. I've spent so much time in it lately that it's become second nature to always be wet and not even think about it. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

"Wasting my time?" Rainstep asks, her tone one of amusement. "Now did I say that? I think not, and I am the only one who decides whether or not my time has been wasted. Pay heed to Whitefang's words, Owlpaw; he is experienced and speaks true. Regardless, Crookedstar is not the type to turn out any cat, much less one he has grown fond of."

"You think he approves of me?" I ask, nearly beside myself with incredulity. How on earth could that ever happen?

"Crookedstar takes notice of those who work hard," Rainstep says, finally standing with a languorous stretch. Her muscles coil visibly underneath her sleek fur, reminding me once more that her mind isn't the only thing she keeps sharpened. "And you have been working very hard, if I do say so myself."

"Maybe it's just because you've been such a slave driver," I retort lightly.

Her ear flicks, and though her mouth quirks at the corners, she only says, "I do try my best. Now, get along back to camp. Crookedstar should have your verdict soon, as well as announcing who's going to the Gathering tomorrow. And I'm sure you would not like to miss either of those."

"Thank you, Rainstep," I say. "For everything."

"Oh, get on with you," Rainstep says, swatting me upside the head with her tail. Still, the gesture is affectionate, and her tone is not unkind.

Nightpaw is waiting for me when I return. She paces in front of the apprentices' den impatiently, her tail lashing from side to side. No one comes near her, so quite a few cats must have already gotten a lashing from her fiery tongue already.

"Hey, Nightpaw," I greet, padding over to her. Her head snaps up, and once she's sees it's me, her brooding eyes soften.

"Owlpaw," she purrs, touching noses with me in greeting. For a moment, we stand in complacent silence, simply taking pleasure in each other's company before words ruin the feeling.

Over the past moon, Nightpaw and I have grown close. Close enough that I would nearly compare my friendship with her to that of mine with Mudpaw's, and certainly above any other I had within WindClan. We were awkward at first, definitely, but with time spent perpetually together and gradually discovered similarities, it finally feels like we became true siblings.

I wish I could say the same for Briarclaw. She dotes on me, sometimes, but most times she is just melancholy, still lingering over Rockfur's death even now. She tries to talk with me, but her eyes are always so tired that I can't help but feel that I'm the one wearing her out.

"How did it go?" Nightpaw asks, drawing back. "Splashpaw came back bragging that we'd have an extra nest in the apprentices' den tonight."

"Did he now?" I ask, somewhat absent.

"Yeah," Nightpaw answers, nodding. "So I shoved him into the stream as soon as he wasn't looking. Nearly drowned, he was so surprised. A pity he didn't."

I laugh, and Nightpaw's eyes brighten. "Thanks for that. I owe you one."

"Nonsense," Nightpaw says, licking her paw dismissively. "I can only stand that cat for so long. I would've done it even if he hadn't been pestering you so much."

"Well, thank you regardless," I tease, nudging her in the shoulder with my own.

We share tongues until night is on us, before Crookedstar comes out of his den. We talk about senseless, unimportant things that fade out of existence as soon as our leader appears. I spring to my paws, Nightpaw right behind me, and race to the center of camp. A few others nearby notice and come join us more slowly.

"Getting ready for the news, Owlpaw?" Birdsong, RiverClan's one and only queen, asks, coming to sit by me. "I bet you must be excited."

"I am," I answer honestly, to which she purrs, "The best of luck. If it were up to me, I'd let you stay."

"Birdsong, you'd let a sheep join RiverClan if it had a mind to," Rainstep says, appearing behind us.

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult," Birdsong says amiably.

"Take it in whatever way you please," Rainstep says with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's merely a statement."

"RiverClan!" Crookedstar calls, and all of us fall silent. The whole Clan has gathered now, excepting the cats out on patrol. I can barely glimpse Splashpaw a few cats away, his chin raised. A long silence stands until Crookedstar finally speaks again, apparently after much deliberation. "Today, we welcome a new cat into our ranks. Owlpaw, you have striven to accomplish any task given to you this past moon, even when it seemed tedious or inconsequential. Your serious nature work ethic more than qualify you to be among our number. I formally welcome you as a permanent member of RiverClan."

The blood is roaring so loudly in my ears that I can barely hear him. Then Nightpaw starts calling, "Owlpaw! Owlpaw!" and the rest of the cats join in, one by one, until the whole Clan is chanting my name as though I'd just been named an apprentice. Warmth grows inside my chest to the point that I'm afraid it'll expand too much and start leaking out of my fur. This is my Clan, welcoming me like kin I only just discovered. And I am RiverClan.

XXX

Fourtrees is oddly silent when our group, headed by Crookedstar, enters. ShadowClan is the only other Clan present, and they stiffen oddly when they see us. I wonder if something happened recently that gives them reason to be mad at us, but if so, I can't think what. We don't even share a border with them.

"Owlpaw, be cautious around WindClan when they arrive," Rainstep says quietly. "Don't act over friendly, or else you might turn more than a few RiverClan cats against you. Crookedstar allowing you to come tonight is also a test, so don't blow it."

"Okay," I reply, just as softly. "Thanks for the warning." She nods and pads off to join a dark tabby she-cat from ShadowClan. I wait on the edge of the groups, not really feeling sociable, and not knowing many cats of ShadowClan regardless. I'll be content to wait until Mudpaw appears.

"Are you waiting for WindClan?" a voice behind me asks. I turn to see a small gray tom with white paws staring at me with luminous eyes. From the damp, piney scent that comes off him, he's obviously ShadowClan, but I don't think I've ever seen him before.

"How did you know?" I ask. I try to keep the nervous edge out of my voice, and I'm not sure how well I succeed. Not very, I would take it, from the confirmation that seems to gleam in his eyes. He seems relieved to have guessed right, but I don't know why it should matter so much.

He shrugs. "You just looked like it, I guess. Do you have friends there?" His tone is easy enough—conversational, really—and he doesn't look like he intends any harm, so I answer honestly.

"Yeah, I do. Up until one moon ago, I lived in WindClan. This is my first time at a Gathering since then, so I haven't seen my Clanm—my former Clanmates in awhile."

His fur bristles, and at first I mistake it for anger at the fact that I'm half-Clan. But he surprises me. "Tallstar let you leave that easily? He didn't even try to stop you?"

"Well, I...I wouldn't say that," I answer hesitantly. My tail flicks low over the ground, and uneasiness weighs in the bottom of my stomach, but I can't stop myself from talking. For some reason, it feels like I have something to prove to this cat. "The real problem came with trying to get Crookedstar to accept me. I finally just finished my trial period yesterday."

"That's a shame," he says, truly sounding sympathetic. He nods, as though just remembering somethingobvious, and says, "I'm Cranepaw by the way. ShadowClan."

"Owlpaw," I return, relieved to not linger over the subject of my being half-Clan. "RiverClan. Barely."

He gives a sort of half-laugh. "How have things been in RiverClan? Anything out of the ordinary? Besides your joining, of course," Cranepaw says. His tone is light enough, but there's an undertone of strain that causes me to look for any hidden meaning in the question.

"Well enough," I answer cautiously. "Nothing strange. Why, is there something in particular you wanted to know about?"

Cranepaw pauses for a moment, looking uncertain. Finally, his eyes harden and he asks with a certain kind of resolve, "Do you know about Silversong?"

I hope my expression isn't as blank as my voice when I say, "Who? Is she in RiverClan? I haven't met her before."

Cranepaw's tail falls along with his ears, and I have the horrible feeling I just caused something painful for him. "Oh. No, she's not in RiverClan. That's fine." He shakes himself, as though to shake clear his thoughts. "No, I was just wondering. It had something to do with patrols. Does Crookedstar send warriors into Fourtrees for patrols?"

"All the way here?" I ask in surprise. "Absolutely not. Why would he bother when Fourtrees is a neutral place? There's no one to defend from over here." To question why he wants to know doesn't strike me until I've already answered his question, and by then, some strange emotion has flashed through his eyes and I have the feeling that the moment to inquire is gone. So I ask something else. "Do you have some kind of connection with RiverClan? Since you're asking about them and all, I mean."

A look of surprise brings Cranepaw out of his meditations, and it's so strong that I wonder if I _should _already know who he is. "I'm…half-Clan, too. My father is from RiverClan."

"Really?" I ask, sounding more eager than I had meant to. It's my first time meeting another half-Clan cat, and somehow, with the knowledge that I'm not the only one, it's easier to bear. In an almost apologetic tone, I add, "Who is he? I could give a message to him if he isn't here tonight, if you like."

Cranepaw turns his head away, and I have the feeling I've offended him again. I'm really bad at this whole socializing thing. "Not anyone I know or anyone I care about. My mother never told me who he was. Thanks anyway, though."

"Oh," I say. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" I look up as the familiar, overpowering scent of open skies and freshly cut grass and mud and rabbits suddenly becomes distinct on my tongue. A moment later, I can hear the rustling of bushes around the left side of the clearing as WindClan enters Fourtrees. My eyes search hungrily for Mudpaw, and I've almost forgotten that Cranepaw is even there until he speaks again.

"Go ahead. Go see your friends. Maybe I'll see you at another Gathering."

I give a guilty start, but he doesn't seem to have any malicious intent with the words, and he looks like he wants to get away just as badly as I do. "It was nice meeting you," I say, nodding my head. "I hope we can meet again soon."

He nods distractedly and we part ways. I find Mudpaw fast enough, and his eyes light with happiness as soon as he sees me. I wonder if I look just as happy. I hope I do, no matter what my new Clanmates might think of me. Because no matter where I live, or what I call myself, Mudpaw will always be my best friend.

I quickly tell him the good news of my placement in RiverClan, unable to hide the pride of my accomplishment. He looks sad for a moment, and it suddenly occurs to me that he probably doesn't want to hear me boasting about my new life without him. But then he grins and nudges me in the side. "Sounds like you're doing well, Owlpaw. I was worried about you for awhile there."

"Worried?" I repeat, nudging him playfully. "About me? Please. I can handle myself."

He laughs, and I take comfort in the easy way we can talk. Even conversation with Nightpaw isn't the easy, nor as enjoyable. It's one thing to talk to a sibling you've known for one moon, but another entirely to be with the cat you grew up with.

And all too soon, ThunderClan arrives. As I watch them enter, one by one, a large tabby catches my eye and I can't help but stare. He's an impressive-looking warrior—a strong build, broad shoulders. I'd certainly hate to meet _him _in battle. I watch as Timberfur discreetly excuses himself from a conversation with a ShadowClan tom and pads over to talk with the warrior.

"I'll be right back," I say to Mudpaw, feeling excited. "I want to see if Timberfur will introduce me to that warrior over there."

Mudpaw glances over my shoulder to the cat in question. "The dark one?"

"Yeah! Doesn't he look really cool?"

"I guess," Mudpaw replies, but he doesn't sound as certain as I feel.

"I'll be back before the leaders start the Gathering," I promise, already weaving my way through the crowd of cats to reach the two formidable warriors. I've nearly reached them when something tells me not to rush headlong into their conversation. Their heads are bent low, and their tones are barely above terse whispers.

They must be talking about something really important. I quietly approach, not wishing to disturb them, and suddenly I can hear what they're talking about.

"Tigerclaw, it is time for you to make good on your deal," Timberfur hisses. "You said you would have Crookedstar _taken care of _by the end of the season, and yet, he is still very much alive. How do you expect me to take over the Clan like this?"

"Patience, Timberfur," the warrior called Tigerclaw purrs softly. "There was a slight…setback, that's all. It shall be done."

"It better be," Timberfur growls. "I won't have you making a mess of things. It took me a long time to finally earn this position, and I'm not about to have it taken away by—" He cuts off as his eyes meet mine, and they widen infinitesimally. I quickly backtrack, unsure what my face is showing, and not knowing how to hide what I just heard from my expression.

I rejoin Mudpaw quietly, and when he asks about Tigerclaw, I simply shrug half-heartedly. My friend knows me too well to know when something is wrong, though, and since there seems no point in hiding the truth, I tell him.

"That's crazy!" Mudpaw declares, his tail lashing angrily behind him.

"Mudpaw, hush!" I whisper, glancing around us frantically. Luckily, the leaders have taken their places on the Great Rock and aren't paying a couple of apprentices much mind. "Do you want the whole forest to hear?"

"Are you sure you heard right?" I nod. "Then we have to tell the leaders! At least Crookedstar and Sunstar."

"They wouldn't believe me," I say uneasily. "I'm just a half-Clan who only recently changed Clans. Why in StarClan would they think I'm not a traitor? I already betrayed my Clan once, so who's to say I wouldn't do it again?"

Mudpaw shakes his head. "This is too important to just let lie, Owlpaw. It's your responsibility as a member of RiverClan to tell your leader."

"I don't have any proof," I say, looking hesitantly around. It feels like every cat in the clearing is watching me, even though not a single one is. "Once I have that, then I'll go to Crookedstar. And maybe you're right. I might've just misheard, or misunderstood."

Mudpaw doesn't look nearly so certain, but he doesn't pester me about it. For the rest of the Gathering, I can't even concentrate on what the leaders are saying. All I can think about is how to prove that Timberfur is a traitor.

* * *

**Heehee~! My longest chapter yet, guys! It makes me so proud. My little ficlet is growing up so fast. –grabs a tissue–**

**So, um, please please please review? They make me infinitely happy, and Shadow being the only constant reviewer is not greatly heartening. (I still less than three you, Shadow.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh gosh. I really didn't want to write this. I mean, I never do, but the fact that no one even reads it plus not wanting to write it is just a double whammy. It isn't even good writing practice anymore because I just BS the whole thing to get it done with. No one to please but Shadow, after all, and she's seen worse of my stuff. XD**

* * *

Timberfur knows.

I know he knows because I catch him watching me with cold, hard eyes every time he thinks I'm not looking. He doesn't even look away when I lock stares with him; in fact, he somehow transfers even more malevolence at these moments, forcing me to break away first as my skin crawls. I have yet to find a way to prove that he's planning to kill Crookedstar, and fear of losing my newfound place keeps me from seeking out my leader. I just have to take my time, or else I'll mess everything up. Patience never killed anyone.

Splashpaw became Splashpelt. The day he got his name, he strutted through the camp proudly, his chest thrust out and chin held so high I thought he'd fall over backwards. He didn't, unfortunately. Just watching him filled Nightpaw with excitement. In another moon or so, we both knew, she would be named a warrior.

The thought made me sad, because then only Grasspaw and I would be left as apprentices, and before long, Grasspaw would leave too. I'd be alone. I couldn't tell Nightpaw this, of course, because the last thing I want is to make the happiest day of her life marred by my selfishness. And it wouldn't be too long before I joined her, after all. We would end up together in a few moons' time.

"Owlpaw, Nightpaw!" Timberfur calls from across the camp, his eyes smoldering. I jump from where I'd been sharing tongues with Nightpaw, and she looks up at me curiously, the unasked question nearly formed on her mouth when I shake my head very slightly. She frowns.

We slowly pad over to where Timberfur is seated with Rapidstrike and Rainstep. The latter of the two looks annoyed, evident in the lashing of her tail back and forth. Her gaze travels restlessly over the cats passing by, and I wonder if she's going through one of her phases.

Sometimes the crazy Rainstep I know truly _does _become crazy. She won't respond when I talk to her, or any other cat, for that matter, and she doesn't seem to see anything around her. Occasionally she mutters nonsense to herself, but rarely will she ever say anything comprehensible. However, somehow, it is precisely at these times that her eyes spark with the most intelligent, and she appears to see through everything around her with the most ease. I don't know what brings it on, but the other cats say that she has always been like this, and that there's no harm in it. I hope they're right, for Rainstep's sake.

"Is something wrong?" I ask once I'm within hearing distance. For some reason, I have a bad feeling about this little meeting, despite the fact that Rapidstrike, Nightpaw, and Rainstep prevent Timberfur and I from talking alone.

"Wrong?" Timberfur repeats, feigning innocence. "Nonsense. Rainstep and Rapidstrike decided it was about time to assess the hunting abilities of you and your sister. That's all."

"Sounds fun," Nightpaw says, bouncing on the balls of her paws eagerly. Evidently, she sees it as a chance to prove herself as a good warrior.

"Don't forget that it's a test," her mentor reminds her, though not unkindly. "I shall be judging you on your performance."

"Yes, Rapidstrike," Nightpaw replies, and though she lowers her head in respect, she can't keep the pride out of her voice.

"Owlpaw, I want you to take the border by Fourtrees," Timberfur says briskly. "Nightpaw, take ThunderClan's border, near to Sunningrocks. Good luck to you both."

Nightpaw and I nod, but I think she notices my uneasiness, because almost as soon as we've left camp—Rapidstrike and Rainstep are trailing behind so that we can't see them—she asks, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter," I say, sounding unconvincing even to myself.

"Uh-huh," she says, rolling her eyes. "Nothing's wrong, and that's why you've been so jumpy lately. I can totally see it."

I let out a sigh and she stops me with a light tap of her tail on my side. She stares at me long and hard before shaking her head. "Why don't you take the hunting grounds near Sunningrocks today? Your head isn't in it at all, and it'll be easier for you to catch prey there."

"But Timbferfur said that—"

"Forget that old bag of fur," Nightpaw teases, nudging me in the shoulder with her own. "He won't care for a little switch. The end results will be the same anyways, right?"

"I guess," I answer, still unconvinced. I can't help but think _anything _I do will make him angry.

"Well why don't we make it a competition then?" Nightpaw suggests, her voice rising with excitement.

"I don't see how that solves the problem."

"No, but it'll be fun."

I laugh quietly. "Alright, Nightpaw. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she says, pressing her nose against mine. "That's what siblings are for, right?"

"Right," I reply, feeling compelled to add, "If you ever need anything, I'll be there for you. No matter what it is."

"I know I can count on you, Owlpaw," she says. And then we part ways, her heading north, and me east. I wonder if Rainstep or Rapidstrike would object to our switching hunting grounds, but Rainstep is out of it right now, and Rapidstrike has been close to depressed ever since the last Gathering. It came on right around the time that ShadowClan announced the death of one of their cats. I wonder if the two of them were close.

Nightpaw was right; it _is _easier to catch prey closer to Sunningrocks. Something about it makes the mice come out of their little burrows, making them easy targets. The fish are in abundance as well, though both of these might just be because it's newleaf and prey is naturally more plentiful.

A strong smell of pines and undergrowth suddenly overcomes me and I open my jaws to breathe in the scent more deeply. A moment later, four cats appear on the other side of the river. ThunderClan.

The lead, a black she-cat with green eyes, steps forward with fur bristling. "What are you doing out on your own, apprentice? I hope you aren't thinking of trying to get across the border."

"Leopardfoot," one of her Clanmates whispers, but she ignores him.

"Well? What is your business here?" she demands.

I wait for Rainstep to come out of hiding and explain that we're in the middle of a test, but she doesn't appear. Maybe this is part of the assessment, too; to see how well I stand up by myself in the face of another Clan. But my throat is dry, and the words won't come. I'm just about to back away and leave before the brambles rustle behind me and I hear Reedtail's familiar voice. "I don't believe it's any of your business to be interrogating our Clan when we've done nothing to you. Yet."

I turn to see Reedtail, Skyheart, and Grasspaw coming towards me. A weight dissipates in my chest, and I quietly pick up my fresh-kill and sidle over to their side.

"Don't try to fool us," Leopardfoot sneers. "You must be plotting to try and take back Sunningrocks. Well, too bad for you, but it's ours."

"Nothing remains unchanged forever, Leopardfoot," Reedtail says coolly, but his hackles are raised, and I can tell it takes a persistent effort not to crouch down into an offensive position. "It would not take long for RiverClan to take back what is rightfully ours."

"Ha!" one of the other ThunderClan cats scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

Reedtail narrows his eyes, but flicks his tail out when Skyheart takes a step forward, ears flat against her head and her and lips drawn back in the beginning of a snarl. "Unfortunately, this is neither the time nor the place to settle our dispute. However, you can rest assured that this will not pass unheeded."

"Like it makes a difference," Leopardfoot says scornfully. She watches until the patrol and I have disappeared into the loosely scattered foliage. I don't know if she leaves or remains with the rest of her group to make sure we don't come back, because I don't glance back to check.

"Sorry you had to come and bail me out," I say, the mice in my mouth muffling my words.

"Don't be ridiculous," Skyhearts says with a grumpy _hmph. _"Arrogant ThunderClan thinks they can get away with whatever they want. Pushing around our apprentices, stealing our territory. Crookedstar will be sure to hear about _this_."

"What about my assessment?" I ask. I still don't understand why Rainstep hasn't come out yet. Even if she didn't show herself when ThunderClan came, she should at least come to tell me whether the assessment is going to continue or not. But there's nothing, not even a trace of her scent.

"Come with us for now," Reedtail says. "You should report with us to Crookedstar. I'm sure Rainstep won't mind, or else she would've said something by now."

All the way back to camp, a dark feeling clings to my chest, growing heavier with foreboding with every step. When we're in sight of the low island surrounded in reeds, it takes me a moment to realize that there's no sound. No cats calling to each other, no one entering or leaving camp. Even the waters seem still.

"Something's not right," Reedtail says quietly, confirming my thoughts. We cut through the water, though with some difficulty for me with two mice and a small fish in my mouth, until we slide onto the shore without pause. The reeds part before our weight, and the first thing I notice is the number of cats gathered in the center of camp.

They all look up as soon as they recognize my scent, and a sense of déjà vu overcomes me as their whispered murmurings go around. I can't make out the words, but I don't need to. I understand as soon as I see Rainstep and Rapidstrike crouching over a bundle of wet night-black fur, twice as small as when I last saw her, and not nearly so still.

Nightpaw is dead.

* * *

**Ahaha, I hope you don't mind the short, deplorable state this chapter's in. No? No complaints? Well that's just dandy. All I really want is for it to be done already. Nearly there. –crosses fingers–**

**This chapter is also full of foreshadowing (the fourth paragraph especially) that I cackled evilly as I wrote it. None of you will understand until the final chapter, but for now, you don't need to.**

**Two more chapters. Then I'm done with Warriors forever, no matter how much Shadow tries to persuade me otherwise. **


	7. Chapter 7

**I…I got reviews! –super happy– Thank you, Twistedstep, spyrofan34, and Shadow! I'm glad I have readers. X3**

**On another note, happy mother's day! Depending on your time zone. Don't forget to tell your mom you're thankful for them today. :)**

* * *

Newleaf passes without notice, and greenleaf comes and goes even faster. The leaves turn shades of gold and brown, more and more of them appearing on the ground to crackle underpaw. The sun sets later and paints the sky with more brilliant colors with every passing day. The river has grown almost unbearably cold, but Rainstep tells me I haven't seen anything yet. To just wait for leafbare. But honestly, I really don't care. None of it interests me.

The Clans have been oddly quiet lately, but it won't last. The tension at the last Gathering between ThunderClan and RiverClan over Sunningrocks was palpable. The only thing left undecided is who will attack first.

"Owlfall, are you paying attention?" Rainstep sighs. Her tail flicks behind her in barely suppressed impatience, and it takes a moment for me to remember that that's my name. _Right. I was made a warrior. _The one thing I always looked forward to most, and now I can hardly even remember it. Everything from the past two seasons is just swamped in fog, and I can't dispel it. "Owlfall!"

"Yes," I say, blinking past bleary eyes to focus on the warrior. She shakes her dark head.

"Did you hear what I said?" Silence. Another sigh. "You, Splashpelt, Timberfur, and Mallowtail are going on a patrol by ThunderClan's border. To make sure everything's still in order and all that. Are you ready?"

"Sure," I say. My gaze slides over her shoulder to where the other three cats are waiting by the reed wall for me. Timberfur's eyes meet mine as he talks to the female warrior, the emotion in them low and burning embers.

A memory slowly surfaces from the muck of my mind. Asking Rapidstrike how it had happened. Him saying how he lost track of his apprentice when Timberfur called him. Something about a ThunderClan scent hanging around the air by the time he finally found her, too faint from a swim in the river to identify who it was. A confrontation at the next Gathering over who killed—

No. It hurts too much to think the name.

I quietly stand and pad over to where the patrol is waiting, trying not to drag my paws as I go. It's rather hard.

"Hey, are you sure you should even be leaving camp?" Splashpelt asks, eyeing me suspiciously. His hostility has softened somewhat towards me since her death, but that might only be because he thinks I'm a useless mess now. I know he can't fathom why Crookedstar made me a warrior when even I can recognize the haze that hangs around me, but I know why. It was out of pity, and a hope that becoming a warrior would give me a new purpose.

It didn't.

"Yes," I reply.

He narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to say something, but Timberfur cuts him off. "Owlfall has duties to the Clan just like the rest of us, and just because he's still mourning a death from two seasons ago, that doesn't mean he can be allowed to shirk them. Come, let's go. We're losing daylight."

Splashpelt is happy enough to leave my coming alone after that, but I do notice him glancing back over his shoulder at me every now and then. I can't really fathom why. Is he _checking _on me? Why bother?

The swim from camp sets my skin crawling, and no matter how much I shake myself to fling off the icy droplets, they still seem to cling to me and soak into my coat. The others have swum in this kind of freezing water before, but they've been so used to greenleaf temperatures that even they shiver a little.

We move through the open fields quietly, the river a constant guide on our left as it gurgles and churns over itself. Scraggly trees begin to appear at intervals, and then we're in the slice of forest along the river that separates us from ThunderClan.

Timberfur waves his tail and brings us to a halt right alongside the edge of the river. He opens his jaws and drinks in the scent, breathing deeply. His ears twitch and swivel back around to flatten against his head.

"It smells like ThunderClan has crossed our border," he hisses low in his throat. It's enough of a surprise that it brings me out of my reverie, my fur bristling along my back as I smell the air myself. Sure enough, fresh ThunderClan scent washes over me. I get the feeling I know who it is, but…I can't match a smell to a face. I've been too out of it lately to remember now.

"Let's split up and look for them," Timberfur says, nodding down each way of the river. "Splashpelt, follow the river back the way we came; Owlfall, follow it upriver. Mallowtail and I will head back into the forest to make sure they haven't gone any deeper. With any luck, they'll have already left."

"With any luck, they haven't, and we can teach them a lesson about trespassing on our territory," Splashpelt growls. His tail lashes back and forth with unbridled anger, and he doesn't even attempt to smooth down the fur spiked along his back.

Timberfur nods, though the motion seems absent, and his eyes are on me. They spark with something, but I don't know what, and before I can take the time to figure it out, he has already turned away and headed back into the trees with Mallowtail at his side. The she-cat glances back at us once, and then they disappear.

"Look, be careful, alright?" Splashpelt says as soon as they're gone. His voice is harsh and aggressive; instead of a warning, it sounds like he's issuing me a threat.

"Do you think I can't even walk along the river by myself?" I demand. "I know I've been…well, not all there, I guess, but I know when it's time to focus. I can handle myself."

"I'm just saying you should call if you meet a whole patrol of ThunderClan cats," Splashpelt says, rolling his eyes. "You can't handle three or four cats on your own."

"It smells like there's only one, though," I say, scenting the air again. "Do you think Sunstar sent him, or is it a personal mission?"

"Not likely we'll ever know," Splashpelt says, looking across the river in disgust. "They'd both just deny that Sunstar had any part in it and that it was just an accident. But we'll never get the chance to ask if we don't find the intruder. Let's go."

I nod, and we part ways, him heading downriver, and I up. I try to move quickly while still keeping my pawsteps silent, but I'm out of practice with stealth movement, and it feels like every time I take a step, I'm announcing my presence to the enemy. I blend into the shadows and use the trees as cover, thankful for my dark fur to blend in where I lack the skill to disguise myself.

The scent keeps fading in and out, and I wonder if he weaved through the water to try and disguise his scent. Suddenly the smell becomes overwhelming and I know he's nearby—whoever he is. Should I call Splashpelt like he told me to? No, there's definitely only one cat, and if I call out now, then I risk the chance of losing the intruder.

I continue walking. A branch cracks underpaw and I freeze, holding my breath. My heart hammers so loudly that I'm afraid he'll hear it and have run off long before I can move again. For a long moment, nothing happens.

The bushes explode to my right and I barely have time to swivel around before a huge tabby pounces on me. I yowl with surprise more than anything, but I hope it's loud enough that Splashpelt and the others can hear.

I roll over with his momentum, just like I was taught by Rainstep, but the tom is twice my size and easily overturns me. I kick my legs at his belly, trying to dislodge his hold on me, but he's unaffected. His paws are on my shoulders, holding me to the ground, and he doesn't seem willing to let go.

"Hello, there," he greets. His voice is low and filled with a morbid kind of pleasantness that sends chills down my spine. "And how are you today? I should rather hope you're actually Owlfall this time."

I stop struggling. "This time?"

"Of course," he says. His claws flex and grip the fur on my shoulders, drawing blood as I gasp with pain. He draws close to me so that he can whisper in my ear. "The last time I was asked to kill an apprentice, it was supposed to be you. The unfortunate thing was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I mistook her for you. But this time, there can be no mistake."

My blood runs cold in my veins as he draws back and stares at me triumphantly. Only then does it occur to me, belatedly, that I _do _know this cat—from the Gathering where I overheard Timberfur plotting to kill Crookedstar. This is Tigerclaw. This is the cat who killed my sister. Under Timberfur's orders.

A strangled yell explodes out of my throat and I redouble my previous efforts to dislodge the large warrior. He stands firm, though, looking down at me with something close to disdain. His lips draw back as he lunges forward to sink his teeth into my throat.

A flash of gray-and-white shoots through the corner of my eye and barrels with a yowl into Tigerclaw, sending him sprawling. I scramble to my paws to see Splashpelt crouched in front of me, hissing with hackles raised as he stares down the intruder.

Tigerclaw slowly stands, shaking his paws as though they've been through the mud. His eyes slowly find Splashpelt. "Well, I didn't expect another cat to be anywhere near this place. Aren't you supposed to be downriver?"

"How long have you been watching?" Splashpelt asks, straightening out of his crouch to reach his full height. He's a full head shorter than Tigerclaw. "Did you wait for us to split up so you could pick us off one by one?"

"No," Tigerclaw says slowly. His tail sways lazily behind him, and he glances across the shore to his own territory. "Well, I'm not responsible to for fighting two of you. The deal was only one, so I'll take my leave for now."

"You think we'll let you leave just like that?" Splashpelt demands. "You invaded our territory, and now you're just going to waltz on out like you own the place?"

"I am," Tigerclaw says. "Unless, of course, you think you can stop me?"

Splashpelt crouches back down, prepared to attack, but I rest the tip of my tail on his shoulder. "Splashpelt, we can't," I whisper. "We have no way to keep him here, and even if we fight, we'd only get hurt. He's more experienced than us, and much bigger."

"Are you backing down, you coward?" Splashpelt asks, turning on me viciously.

"I'm only saying that we should go back to camp and report this," I say. I lower my voice so that only he can hear me. "If we get hurt now, Crookedstar wouldn't let us fight when he gives the order to attack ThunderClan. And he _will _attack ThunderClan after this."

Splashpaw hesitates before letting his fur lie with some difficulty. "Get out," he snarls to Tigerclaw. He stares coolly at the much younger warrior before sliding into the water and disappearing towards his own territory.

"Thank you," I sigh once he's gone. "You really saved me."

Splashpelt rolls his eyes. "You're my Clanmate, aren't you? Besides, I did tell you that I'd come help if you called."

"Yeah," I say. "But thank you all the same."

He leads the way to find the others. I hope he couldn't catch Tigerclaw's hints that he was sent by someone in our own Clan. He doesn't seem to have. As long as he stays in the dark, it will make it all the easier for me to kill Timberfur.

* * *

**One more chapter guys~ I might add another if I feel the next one doesn't tie up all the loose ends, but I'm pretty sure it will.**

**And. I beat Kingdom Hearts 2 for the first time last night. IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL. I squeed without shame, and now I am dying for Dream Drop Distance. I waaaaant it. D:**

**Please review~!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Phew. Sorry for the late update, but I've had a busy busy two weeks. Graduation was on Saturday and recital was Sunday, and I had relatives down, so I was a little lacking in the time department. I had planned to update on Wednesday, but then I…I just didn't want to write this chapter.**

**Speaking of: Last chapter guuuuys. I had another one planned when I first started outlining, but as long as everyone feels that this chapter wraps up the story nicely, then it won't be written. This will also be my last AN, because I don't want it to clutter up the ending. Thank you so much for the recent support! It makes me happy to know people are reading, and I really really hope I don't disappoint you. It's been a slow, somewhat-fulfilling journey, but a good one all the same, methinks. :)**

**Well, onto the final chapter!**

* * *

The air is cold and crisp outside of Crookedstar's den. Splashpelt and I returned to camp without waiting for Timberfur and Mallowtail, mostly at my urging. I want to see our noble deputy's expression when he sees I'm still alive.

Crookedstar suddenly prowls out from under the roots of the willow heading the camp, Splashpelt coming right behind him with barely concealed excitement. It flashes darkly in his eyes, sparking the blue flecks in them so that they stand out like dust scattered over a pool of black water.

"RiverClan!" Crookedstar yowls without missing a beat. He remains standing, but Splashpelt bounds in front of the crowd that had already begun to gather when just the two of us returned from our patrol and went straight to the leader's den. I silently join Briarclaw, wincing as the poultice _ gave me burns along my shoulders. The feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, but it stings.

She barely even looks up at me. Rockfur's and Nightpaw's deaths hit her hard, and now she hardly even speaks to any cat. If I sit next to her, I know she won't ask any annoying questions. She won't even say anything.

Before I joined RiverClan and met my mother, when I only daydreamed about what kind of cat she was, maybe I would have tried to comfort her. Maybe I imagined she would be the one comforting me in this kind of situation, and that together we would become even closer and move on. But now I know that it will take her a long time to recover, if ever, and I'm in no loving mood to be nursing her back to her former self. She isn't the cat I always wanted to be my mother, even if she had been at one time. And I'm sure I'm not the son she always wanted when I'm abandoning her like this.

Crookedstar's eyes rake over the crowd. Everyone's head jerks to the reed wall as the dry plants rustle and Mallowtail and Timberfur enter. They're both out of breath, but as soon as Timberfur's hard eyes find me, he freezes. We lock gazes, and even though I can't tell what expression I might be wearing, it's enough that Timberfur knows I'm aware that he tried to have me killed. That Nightpaw was killed when he had meant for it to be me. A snarl twists his lips momentarily before it's smothered and he looks to Crookedstar. The leader nods for the two of them to join the gathering.

"ThunderClan has entered our territory and attacked one of our own warriors!" Crookedstar says, raising his voice so that it carries even to the furtherest corners of the camp. Gasps break out and murmurs spread like wildfire among the cats, and Crookedstar lets them for a moment. Better to let them get agitated for what is sure to come next, I guess.

"We can't let them get away with this!" someone snarls. Shouts rise in agreement, and Crookedstar flicks his tail for silence. It takes a moment in coming, but as soon as he repeats the gesture, the only sound in the camp is the soft lapping of waves against the sand.

"Tonight, we will show ThunderClan that they cannot break the warrior code as they please and enter our territory without permission," Crookedstar says. His voice is low and calm, and all the more intense for it. "We will show them who the true owners of Sunningrocks are!"

The Clan raises its many voices in cheer, agreement, whatever emotion it is that I should currently be feeling. But right now, the chance for revenge is the only thing that sings through my veins as I scan the crowd for Timberfur. If I can get him alone during the battle, all I have to do is kill him and make it look like ThunderClan did it. It's a reckless plan, but it had been forming in the back of my head ever since Splashpelt went to inform Crookedstar of Tigerclaw's trespassing. No one would ever suspect me. They would have no reason to, what with Timberfur and I constantly avoiding one another. There's no connection between us to make.

I get the feeling that Timberfur is thinking along similar lines, because when I finally find him, it is only to lock gazes with him in grim understanding. One way or another, this will end tonight.

XXX

In the distance, cats yowl in surprise and pain, triumph and pleasure in finally being able to get revenge and defend one's Clan's honor. Words are too far away to be distinct where we are. It wouldn't matter even if they were only a few tail-lengths away, though; I wouldn't hear them regardless. Only the soft scuffling of wind through the dead leaves, skittering over one another across the dry packed ground, surrounds us.

"So this is it," Timberfur says. He crouches across from me, prepared to fight in case I attack him while he speaks. "We don't leave here until one of us is dead."

"I'm surprised you're being so noble about this," I say, curling my lip as the taunt leaves my tongue. I can feel my belly fur brush against the ground as light as feathers over water. "I would've expected you to bring a few ThunderClan friends to fight in your place."

"I don't need anyone's help to finish off a weakling like you," Timberfur laughs. He bends closer to the ground.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed it from the way you got Tigerclaw to kill my sister, and tried again to make him kill me," I hiss. Timberfur snarls and springs towards me. I roll out of the way, using my lower height to my advantage to dodge him. I barely have time to make it back on my paws before he's at my side, clawing down my flank.

I clench my jaws shut to prevent a hiss of pain escaping as his claws sink past my fur into skin, drawing out thick streaks of blood. I jump in front of him, raking my claws down his face in rapid succession while he's distracted by his brief victory. He yowls and backs away, shaking his head. Dark droplets rain down.

A streak of burning satisfaction courses through my veins as I leap onto his back, sensing an opening. He doesn't fall under my weight since I'm too light—not immediately. Once I sink my teeth into his throat, he goes down fast enough.

His hot blood gushes around my mouth, nearly making me choke and lose my grip. He struggles underneath me, his legs flailing as he tries to reach me, but I'm directly on his back. After a moment, his struggles become weaker until eventually they stop altogether. He is still, and if not for the amount of blood soaking my muzzle and paws, I might've kept holding on, just to make sure he wasn't faking death in order to make me drop my guard.

I slowly back away from him. Something twists inside my stomach as my eyes meet his, filled with the clouds of summer as they stare listlessly into the distance. There's something about those eyes that watch me as I pace away.

Timberfur's dead. I killed him. His brown pelt gleams dully in the faint glow of the moon, the light lingering lovingly over the pool of liquid below his throat and drenched in his fur. It's enough to make a cat sick, but now that the initial feeling of disgust has passed, all I can feel in me is a heightened sense of euphoria that refuses to be ignored. It breathes down my paws, lending energy to them when they felt heavy as rocks only moments ago. I did it. Timberfur's dead. _I_ killed him.

A branch snaps behind me and I whirl towards the sound. A dark shape sits under cover of a patch of brambles, dark blue eyes illuminated eerily as they watch me, unblinking, steady. A snarl rises in the back of my throat.

The cat stands and daintily shakes a paw, as if stepping out of a patch of morning dew that had coated the grass she had walked across. She steps forward into the light of the clearing, ears twitching as the light hits them, as if she can feel it. The snarl slips between my teeth as a sigh of relief. My tail drops down and I force my fur to lie smooth once more. "Rainstep."

"I would ask what you're doing here," she says slowly, ignoring the greeting as her eyes flick to Timberfur's body, "but that would imply that I don't know."

"You mean, you knew all along that Timberfur was plotting to kill Crookedstar?" I ask, shocked. I take a step forward to meet her, and her eyes snap up to my face, as if in warning. I falter, and stop. "And about Nightpaw, too? Why didn't you say anything? Crookedstar would've trusted you; you're a pure-blood RiverClan warrior."

"It was more interesting just to watch the game rather than play in it," Rainstep says.

"You mean you thought of all of this as a _game?" _I demand, my elation at killing Timberfur and seeing Rainstep fast fading. "Cats dying, losing comrades—that was all just a _game _for you?"

"In short, yes," Rainstep answers. She walks toward me, her tail swaying slowly, easily behind her. Everything about her suggests that we're having nothing more than a conversation about the weather. Her shoulders are relaxed, her claws are still sheathed. Still, something about the way her bright eyes are locked on mine sends a shiver down my spine. "After all, what is life but a game? What will it matter in four, five years? Most of us won't be around anymore; we'll just be a memory. And even then, we will disappear once those who remember us die. If we're going to evaporate in the grand scheme of things anyways, why not enjoy our time here?"

"We don't disappear," I say. "We go to StarClan, to watch over the cats who are still alive."

"StarClan," Rainstep scoffs. "They no more exist than Timberfur does now. And even if they did, who would want to sit around and protect a group of ungrateful cats who constantly fight with one another, even after being told several times not to? It sounds like a bore."

"You don't believe in StarClan," I say stupidly. It's all I can think of, even though she basically just stated that. I can still feel blood trickling down my side from where Timberfur's claws sunk in. I wonder how much I've lost. Not nearly so much as him, but enough that I'm worried about it.

"No," Rainstep says thoughtfully. She stops directly in front of me, our noses only a mouse-length apart. "No, I suppose I don't."

With a speed that I've never seen before, she brings her claws across my neck. They sink deeper than any wound I've ever received, deeper even than Timberfur's from a few moments ago. I stagger back, still feeling her claws scratching through the back of my throat even though her paws are both on the ground in front of her.

"Wh…" I fall to the ground, struggling just to gasp in air that isn't enough, mindlessly trying to keep it in my throat, but it just leaves as soon as it's in my mouth, and it won't go to my lungs. My chest heaves as panic overcomes me. My eyes won't focus on anything, and the clearing spins in circles that make me even shorter of breath. The edges of my vision blur. Black creeps at the edges.

Rainstep stands over me, looking down at me with tilted head and curious eyes. My sight goes completely dark, but not before I hear her say, "You know, it really is a shame, Owlfall. RiverClan won't be nearly as interesting without you."


End file.
